The Grand Tour

This week Mike and the Albinos came up to the Bay Area to visit.

They did the whole San Francisco Pier whatever-the-number-is sightseeing, along with the tour of the Jelly Belly factory in Fairfield. Apparently there were a lot of obese people touring the candy factory. Go figure.

Jeff (along with Mike) barbequed some chickens with beer, only temporarily lighting the entire propane grill on fire in the process. They claimed that the non-charred part of the chickens was excellent. My veggie burgers were just fine.

They even built a tree house, although it's more like a tree deck with two support pillars that go down to the ground. I'm a little worried that the support pillars, which are sitting on a foundation of two bricks stacked on the dirt, will be a little unsteady after the next rain, but I suppose that even if the whole thing sags it's unlikely anyone will be seriously hurt since the platform is only a little over five feet off the ground.

K-Poo even made it back from China for the occasion and was remarkably coherent for someone who had just flown across the earth and hadn't slept for 48 hours.

Unfortunately the whole weekend was completely ruined when Mike confirmed that he also remembers the movie theater (there was only one theater) in Rolla, Missouri showing Silent Running as part of the children's summer movie series. Apparently I'm the only one who thinks that's crazy. The children's summer movie series was a weekly event where they showed things like Don Knotts movies (a la the Apple Dumpling Gang series) and the old Batman films during the day.

Silent Running is not a film I would show to a child. Okay, actually I wouldn't show it to anyone since it was made in the 70s and was pretty terrible. But I would especially never show it specifically to children. It's a dystopian nightmare, and people are being killed off throughout the whole film. By the end everyone is dead with the exception of one robot. Why would they think that belonged in the series?

Mostly what I remember about the film (aside from the scene where one of the robots is killed) is that the people whose whole purpose in life was to keep a bunch of plants alive couldn't figure out that the plants were dying because they weren't getting enough light. Even as a seven year old I knew that was stupid. I guess the movies being made today really aren't any worse than they used to be.

Whatever.

It Pains Me To Say This

I had to bump my running plans by a day on Friday because I was having these weird sharp pains just under the left rib cage and it hurt to walk so I figured that running was out of the question.

I realize that normal people probably don't get irritated by pain just because it throws off their exercise program. Normal people probably actually take these things seriously and consult medical professionals. I never claimed to be normal.

My diagnostic plan (for pretty much everything) is to wait and see what happens. If I drop dead from it (outcome #1), well, at least I haven't spent long suffering, and hopefully someone will notice before my animals die of starvation. If it gets better (outcome #2, which has been how it's worked out so far) I haven't wasted any time being poked and prodded by people I don't know. And if it stays the same (outcome #3) then I know that I probably won't drop dead from it any time soon and the diagnostic approach continues.

Yes, yes, I'm aware that there are a few logical flaws in my plan, but at least I'm not clogging the emergency room with my visits.

Anyhow, it was better for a while on Saturday and then the pain showed up again the minute I started the five minute warm up walk. I decided that I'd ignore it and keep going as long as I could, which turned out to be a great idea. It's easier to ignore the general discomfort of running and lack of oxygen when you're thinking about sharp intermittent abdominal pain. It was my best run ever.

So against my better judgement I googled my symptoms today. We all know that's a bad idea and yet everyone does it. I've decided that I probably don't have pericarditis or a dissecting aortic aneurysm (see diagnostic outcome number 1). I think my legitimate rule-outs would include heartburn, gas in the colon (which mentions that the treatment is to "sit in a chair to rid the colon of the trapped air"), or stomach ulcers.

Whatever. If you need me I'll be sitting in my chair...

Just a Gigolo...

Couch to 5k continues, and the couch is certainly beckoning loudly. I may have to go apologize to the people on my route who lived near the spot where I realized my walking time was up and I had to go back to jogging. I might have said something mildly profane in an outside voice...

Anyhow, yesterday I actually left my house and went to a barbeque. Is the world ending?

Ngoc made some really excellent food for 80 people. Technically there were only six of us plus her family, but I heroically ate at least ten servings. It was only polite, after all.

My ex-cubicle-neighbor Jon was there, acting as the sous chef. He also brought his world-renowned deviled eggs (because, you know, there might have been a shortage of food otherwise) and I heroically ate some of those as well.

(It's possible that my definition of the word "heroically" needs some work. I realize this.)

Speaking of Jon, we were discussing his status now that he's not getting paid to sit next to me and come up with terrible puns all day. Jeff was going with "on sabbatical" or "retired". Jon might also be termed a "house husband". I say that since his wife is now the only one earning a paycheck that he's really a gigolo. It's not often I get to use that word. The good news is that Jon has a sense of humor about this sort of thing. Also, he could probably find a job in about five minutes if he wanted to since he has what the kids might call "mad skillz".

Anyhow, I eventually rolled out to my car at the end of the day and drove home, secure in the knowledge that I would never need to eat again.

Then I got up this morning and ate ice cream.

Yep, I'm an adult. I promise...

Baby, we weren't born to run...

You know how you see some people out pseudo-jogging and it looks like they're running in place because they're just sort of swaying from foot to foot and you think "Why do you even bother?"...

Yeah, that's kind of me. Except I'm also gasping for breath at the same time.

Clearly I'm still closer to the couch than the 5k, which is really sad if you've seen my couch. And next week (i.e., Friday) I graduate to week four of the program which has five minute stretches of running. Maybe I really should bring my phone along with me so I can call a taxi to get back home.

A few quick unrelated rants:

- Do you know what's more boring than actually swimming? Yes, it's watching someone else swim, and I say this as someone who spent her formative years with green hair. Or worse, listening to other people talk about watching someone else swim. I think the Olympics need to be rescheduled to once every ten years. Or possibly discontinued completely.

- Why do they sell pet beds that can't be washed?

- How is it possible for me to sweep up one bag of dog hair off the floor, then brush another two bags off the dog and have her look exactly the same afterwards? She's like one of those Play-Doh toys where you press down on the lever and a bunch of strands come out. Or maybe like the hair cutting doll my sister had where you cut the hair and then pulled it out to make it longer. I think my next dog will be a Standard Poodle.

- Who am I kidding? My next dog is never a planned thing.

Right, well, I need to go "jogging" now. Wish me luck.